


Crimson Sunset

by EmlynC



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, Order 66 (Star Wars), Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), Suitless Darth Vader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmlynC/pseuds/EmlynC
Summary: It was too late to stop what was about to happen—too late to prevent the Temple he had once called home from being decimated by the cruel might of the Sith. Too late to save them…from himself.AKA, Vaderkin on his way to the Jedi Temple during Order 66
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Kudos: 8





	Crimson Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! After years of reading fanfiction, I have finally decided to write one...enjoy :)

The Coruscanti sky was awash in a crimson glow, pervading the uppermost levels of the urban sprawl that covered the planet’s surface. It turned transparisteel into dark, glimmering rubies, and the durasteel walls rising up all around were tinted red as if bathed in blood. The five towering spires of the Jedi Temple were backlit by the fiery brilliance, and just out of sight, the famed curve of the Senate Dome—the seat of power of the now-crumbling Galactic Republic—shone mutedly with reflected light.

This phenomenon was nothing new—the sunsets on Coruscant never failed to dazzle those fortunate enough to witness them through the crowded complex of buildings. The sunset that now blazed on the distant cityscape horizon was no more significant than it had been yesterday, or the day before.

The sunset was the same, yet everything had changed.

He moved in a daze that could only be achieved through many sleepless nights, kept awake by the terrors he found in his dreams. He no longer remembered what his body felt like without exhaustion weighing down his limbs. His mind was a muddled whirlwind, panic and anger and despair battling for dominance in his sleep-addled thoughts.

The only constant was the fear twisting deep in his gut—a paralyzing emotion he knew all too well. A dead-eyed dragon with its talons wrapped around his heart. A sinister whisper reminding him that even stars die—and one day, a time growing inexorably nearer with every breath, so would she.

Could he really betray the people he had lived alongside since he was nine years old? A stroke of blue, betrayed eyes, a flash of lightning—he already had.

It was too late to stop what was about to happen—too late to prevent the Temple he had once called home from being decimated by the cruel might of the Sith. Too late to save them…from himself.

There was no going back from the path he was on, no matter how strongly a part of him wished otherwise. That voice inside that insisted that this was _wrong_ _,_ that it was never too late to make a different choice. As the wind whipped past his face, he tried his best to ignore it.

Ahsoka had abandoned him when he needed her the most, and Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan had always held him back, trapping him in mediocrity because he feared Anakin’s power. They all did.

Padmé was the only one he could trust—her apartment at 500 Republica was the only place he felt remotely at peace. He was doing this for her. And yet the task ahead of him…it made him sick. He _saved_ people, not murdered them in cold blood. He was a protector, not an executioner.

But then he remembered the blistering sands of Tatooine, the heat of the twin suns at his back as he raced against the inevitable, and it still wasn’t enough. He remembered the hate, the rage. The bodies.

He still couldn’t remember what exactly had happened on that night—and he didn’t want to. He locked that memory far away, concealed beneath Padmé’s loving smile from the night of their wedding. He didn’t remember the details—but it didn’t matter. Through that dreamlike nightmare, he knew one thing, and it was enough—he had killed them all.

He had been too late then, too weak. He hadn’t been strong enough to save what mattered, but he was now—he had to be. Because a galaxy without Padmé was one he would never accept.

This singular thought propelled him through the streets of Coruscant, the buildings on either side of his speeder diminished to unimportant streaks of red. He chased the setting sun as shadows deepened around him, hoping beyond hope that this time he wouldn’t be too late.

The first line of the Jedi code rose, unbidden, in his mind:

_There is no emotion; there is peace._

It made him laugh aloud—a short, choked, wretched thing that was halfway to becoming a sob.

There _was_ emotion…and peace was a lie.


End file.
